


Going Through Hell for a Slice of Heaven

by Toastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Ellen Harvelle, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Chuck Is A Writer, Depression, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Benny Lafitte, Omega Chuck Shurley, SPNAUBB2016, Sam is a lawyer, Self-Hatred, Soulmate AU, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural AU Big Bang, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastiel/pseuds/Toastiel
Summary: Chuck was sure his life was over when he presented Omega. He was convinced he would never find his voice again. Then he met Sam. Now all he has to do is get the stunning Alpha to say his name. Should be a piece of cake, right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the SPN AU Big Bang on Tumblr. All artwork is credit to my amazing artist, i-want-a-dean-sam-castiel-pbj. Go check her out. She really is an incredible talent! 
> 
> Many thanks to Trickster and Tabby for being my betas and helping me through this. I'd be so lost without you two. Love you both!

**4**

He hadn’t known, when everything began, that this was how it was going to end. He certainly hadn’t planned on spending what was likely his last days chained up in his editor’s basement as the worst heat of his life slowly destroyed him. Then again, there were a lot of things Chuck Shurley hadn’t planned on, like finding his soulmate, or finding his voice again. He’d been fairly certain that he would die, alone and broken, after spending the majority of his life at the bottom of a bottle with a dark cloud overhead that never seemed to go away. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seriously considered ending it all years ago, or several times since. He never could manage to do it though.

He could remember waking up with a bottle of prescription sleeping pills up-ended on his pillow. Then there was the time he woke up with a gun in his hand, bullets scattered across the floor of his living room as if he’d thrown them. These images flashed through his mind, the haze of fever doing nothing to distort them, or muddle them. No, they were perfectly clear. The kind of clear that comes with knowing that you were going to die soon, and that there was no point in lying to yourself anymore.

Chuck didn’t want to die, though. Not now, not after everything that had happened in the last few weeks. He sure as hell didn’t want to die like this. He had tried to fight it, to stay strong and keep his head on straight, but it was getting to the point that he couldn’t anymore. He was close to breaking; he knew it and so did his captor. It was only a matter of time.

He held out hope that his mate would come for him, that he would save the omega, and do what he was supposed to do to begin with. He knew it wasn’t likely to happen though, and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t hold any of it against the alpha. They had both messed up, neither one entirely sure what to make of Fate’s decision in pairing them together. They’d held back, avoided the issue, and now it was too late. Chuck knew his time was running out, and he could only pray that his body gave out before his mind.

Hazey blue eyes remained fixed on the space where he knew the door lay. He’d tried to reach it, but it was just too far. His chains wouldn’t even let him get half way. It wasn’t much of a worry to his captor now. He was too weak to stand, much less run. The omega curled in on himself, arms wrapped tight around his middle as another round of cramping set in. Searing pain shot through him from head to toe and a broken whimper fell from his lips. What had begun as an aching need for his mate had morphed into mind-numbing pain and a silent plea for unconsciousness.

“All you have to do is say yes,” the disembodied voice floated over him from somewhere in the darkness. It was cold and mocking, and it made Chuck want to cry and shrink away into nothing. The figure slowly took shape as it approached the bed, a sinister smirk playing on too thin lips as twisted mirth danced in hard, steel grey eyes. “Say yes and I’ll take the pain away.”

“Go to hell.” Chuck bit out, glaring up at the imposing form. His voice was shaky and thin, but at least he managed to sound as pissed off as he felt.

“Tsk tsk,” the bed dipped as his captor took a seat, one hand reaching out to cup his cheek. Chuck flinched away, the palm feeling cold and clammy against his skin. It made his stomach churn and bile rose in his throat. A second later, the hand disappeared and he let out a small breath of relief. Too soon, it would seem, as the alpha brought his open palm down against the omega’s cheek with enough force to send his head spinning and stars flaring behind closed eyelids.

“You will break. You might not give in in time for me to keep you from dying, but I’ll still have the satisfaction of knowing I’m the only knot you’ll ever take.”

Chuck remained silent, glaring at the alpha as he cupped his burning cheek with one shaking hand. He must have cut the inside of his cheek because the taste of blood flooded his mouth and the nausea worsened. The man stood, shaking his head.

“Ya know, I made you great. I made you famous. What did I get in return? Hmm? Nothing, that’s what. You got all the praise and I got shoved off to the side.” Chuck opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced. “Don’t! Don’t ever try to justify any of it. Don’t apologize. I don’t want your apologies, Chuck. I want you. I have for a long, long time. And now...now you’re mine. So you met your soulmate, so you got your voice back, big deal. Doesn’t matter. You were always supposed to be mine. MINE!”

He was crazy. This man, this man that had been such a huge part of his life for so long, was batshit insane. How had Chuck never seen that before? Maybe he had, and just hadn’t wanted to admit it. He’d been the only thing even close to family that Chuck had had for so long, that the omega had been terrified of losing him like he’d lost everyone else. He could see it now, though, clear as day. His eyes were bright and wild and dark all at once, and his lips were twisted into a snarl as he spoke. There was something wrong inside his head, and Chuck feared what that might mean for him. He was already being held against his will, denied the one thing that could save his life. How much worse could things really get?

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t seen the alpha leave. He didn’t know he was alone again until he heard the door slam shut and the lock click into place.

“God,” he whispered desperately, “I know I’ve never been the type to pray, but pl-please...help him. Even if I don’t make it out alive, please let him find me.”

Hot tears spilled from clenched eyes as he buried his face into the thin, musty pillow he’d been given. He cried silently for what seem like hours until his body gave into exhaustion and the omega fell into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

****

 

**3**

 

Chuck was a happy child. His parents doted on him, giving their only child everything he could have ever asked for. He never wanted for anything.He was allowed to do as he pleased, running around the neighborhood with the other children, enjoying life the way only a child could. He loved to play baseball, and was proficient at both the guitar and the piano by the time he was ten. He was smart, never making less than an A on anything, and he was liked by most everyone he met.

 

He could pinpoint the exact moment when his life took a complete turnaround, too.

 

Three days after his twelfth birthday, Chuck awoke with no voice. His parents had been so proud, but he had been distraught. Every time someone would speak to the newly presented omega, he would open his mouth to reply only to break down and flee, tears in his eyes, when he realized he couldn’t. It had taken him weeks to accept his unwanted muteness, and even longer to accept his designation as omega.

 

He tried to hide it at first, but it became obvious the moment someone asked him a question that he was an omega. In his adolescent mind, being an omega was the worst possible thing. He didn’t want to be pampered and coddled.  He wanted to be the same person he had always been, playing baseball with his friends, roughhousing in the back yard, not caring that his clothes were dirty or his knees and elbows were scraped. He didn’t want to have to change who he was to fit what he was, but no one gave him the option to remain the same.

 

He realized, as he experienced his first heat, that even his own body was betraying him. The idea that he would spend a week every six to nine months leaking slick and dealing with cramps and bloating just made him want to crawl into a hole and die. It was humiliating. Even worse was that everyone could tell. There was no privacy. Alphas could smell it a mile away, and other omegas just knew.

 

By the time he was thirteen, Chuck Shurley was no longer the bright, happy child he once had been. He withdrew into himself, spending hours locked in his room, wishing for things to be different. He still played the piano, and the guitar, but he lacked the passion and the emotion he’d once been able to convey so easily. Baseball had become a distant memory, because no parent would let their omega child risk personal injury. They were simply too precious for that. His grades began to slip, despite the encouragement from his teachers that he could still succeed in his studies as an omega.

 

By the age of fourteen, he was a mediocre student. He didn’t see the point in trying when the alphas were bigger and better and smarter than him. He gave up music altogether, and most days he found it a struggle to leave his bed. His parents made the decision to pull him from public school and began homeschooling him in the hopes that he would apply himself if he had no one to compete with. Nothing changed.

 

Shortly after his fifteenth birthday, his parents forced him into visiting a psychiatric specialist. It was quickly determined that he was depressed. They’d seen this sort of reaction often in young omegas, the doctor had said. They chalked it up to changes in hormones and neurology, or some other bullshit reason that he hadn’t paid enough attention to to remember. What hadn’t been so easy were the twice-a-week sessions he was made to attend with the good doctor. He was given a strict regimen of antidepressants and hormones, along with daily doses of  O-Vite, an omega-specific vitamin meant to maintain the emotional and mental health of growing omegas.

 

Since he lacked a voice, the only way he could communicate with the therapist was either by writing, sign language, or lip reading, and he was abysmal at the latter two. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t master anything more than basic movements, and he could never make any distinction between even the simplest of words. So he wrote. He was told to keep a journal, to write a bit about his mental and emotional state every day, even if it was only a few sentences.

 

He never expected to enjoy writing. It took several months, but he slowly broke from his introverted state. The more he wrote, the less weighed down he felt by everything. The doctor had an explanation for that too, of course. It had been a defense mechanism, a way for him to protect himself for something he viewed as a threat or a negative event in his life. Now, he was slowly emerging from his cocoon of safety, and eventually, he would be able to experience life as he had spent the past three years wishing he could.

 

By the time he was sixteen, Chuck had come to terms with what he was. He was still uncomfortable about it, his self-esteem practically nonexistent, but he was trying. The first time he’d offered to go shopping with his mother, she had burst into tears with a smile on her face. They ended up spending the entire day shopping for clothes, shoes, and anything else that caught the young omega’s eye. When they returned home, Chuck cleared out his room, getting rid of the baseball gear, the dark, rough, drab bedclothes, and the clothes he’d spent so long hiding in. None of it was made for omegas with the exception of the Omega briefs he wore during his heats. He hadn’t had much choice in those, either.

 

Everything was replaced with silky soft fabrics, from his tees and his jeans, to his socks and his sheets. Blackout blinds gave way to flowing, sky blue curtains, and the dark brown of his walls was covered with a light, airy shade of cream. He took the space beneath his bay window, what had previously been a cabinet filled with old toys and children’s books, and created his own nest. It wasn’t much, but it was his. Several thick blankets formed the base, and plush pillows surrounded the area. He kept a notebook and pen hidden in the folds of the blankets, and the majority of his writing was done within it’s safe confines.  

 

Over the following two years, Chuck grew more comfortable with his situation. He came to terms with what he was, but he still refused to let it change who he was. He was determined to remain the same person he had always been, no matter what society believed, and for the first time in almost seven years, he was actually happy again.

 

He was never meant to be happy, though. Not for long at any rate.

 

In the months following his eighteenth birthday, Chuck lost everything once again. His parents had been driving home from running some errands, just like every other day before that. The sky had been clear, the weather mild. There were no hazards, no reason at all why anything should go wrong. It still did, though. A semi crossed the center lane, the driver unconscious behind the wheel. They hadn’t stood a chance in their small sedan.  

 

He was told it was quick, that they hadn’t suffered, but it did little to make him feel better. He fell back into depression, drowning his pain in the remnants of his father’s liquor cabinet. They’d left everything to him, and there was more than enough money to last him a lifetime in savings, bonds, and other various funds. He wouldn’t have to work. He could go to college, do whatever he wanted with his life, but he didn’t want to do anything. It was a quick spiral downwards, and he slammed into the bottom of the barrel with a bone-rattling force, but he couldn’t have been bothered to care. Nothing mattered anymore, no one was there to stop him or miss him.

 

He cried at random, his entire body falling victim to silent, gut-wrenching sobs. He broke into fits of rage, trashing what had once been precious possessions. He shattered vases against walls, flipped over an antique roll-top desk, shredded Persian rugs, and threw priceless painting into the fireplace without a second thought. Nothing he did made the pain stop, though. Nothing short of a bottle of bourbon could lessen the terrible pain in his chest, and even that was just a bandaid over a gaping wound.

 

It was during one of these fits that he found the fodder he’d needed to change, even if it was only slightly. He’d grabbed the nearest book and hurled it across the room, the solid ‘thunk’ of it slamming into the wall doing little to assuage his irritation. When he looked up, he realized that the book was one of his old journals, the pages open to a poem he’s jotted down ages ago.

 

**_Liner Notes_ **

**_Ciaran Berry_ **

_Because this song’s made of the airwaves_

_a time machine, you start to play the air_

_guitar of memory, making a country_

_so you can walk back into it, like a man_

_on rewind in a silent film, his whiskey tumbler_

_filling up again as he rises from his stool_

_and steps backwards towards the avenue, where_

_the cars, cabs, trucks reverse away from him,_

_and the lights, for once, turn amber to green;_

_where the two hands on his watch unravel time,_

_like a maiden aunt unpicking a whole evening’s worth_

_of knitting over the dropped stitch that means_

_she must go back before she can go on._

_You raise the record from its sleeve again,_

_hold it grail-like into the wayward light_

_to read the liner notes on a life you’ve lived_

_all wrong. Wind in the sycamores outside,_

_rain coming down in a town you left behind_

_and not this one, where the backward longing_

_can strike you anytime — breath on the nape_

_of your neck when you’re the only one in line,_

_cat with a broken spine dragging itself off_

_into the undergrowth to die. Where the silence_

_might give way to a high-hat or snare drum,_

_the lub-dub of the bass, a brass section._

_After a long absence, you take up the thread again,_

_take up the line, what you listen for,_

_try not to listen for, stirring the tiny hairs_

_within your inner ear, weighting the wet tip_

_of your tongue, like the scuff and fumble_

_of the blind needle finding its way from silence_

_to the first track on side one. You nod_

_your head “yes.” You sing along. You tap_

_the steering wheel of the car in which you pass_

_under a strobe of stars, a quarter moon,_

_until, despite yourself, you are sixteen_

_again and walking home in a downpour_

_with your Ken Dodd quiff, your flowers of sulfur,_

_toward the box of records from which you’ll pick_

_a tune to name the afternoon. Its scattered_

_showers with a chance of sunny spells later,_

_its gust and bluster from Rathlin to Cape Clear._

_This one would sound good in a stadium._

_It’s all guitar shimmer, tremolo arm,_

_a chorus that staggers smitten toward_

_the open bar. This one’s a plea, a paean_

_on just six strings until the horns cut in,_

_like the bully at a prom. It recalls the taste_

_of cigarettes and bubblegum on the tongue_

_of the first girl you ever kissed. All broken glass_

_and bruised finger, it's swoon circles forever_

_the turntable in that blue room where you_

_fed and watered every slight and scar. And so_

_you’d like to thank the engineer, his assistant_

_who provides the harmonies and made the tea;_

_the trumpet player, his spit still wet in the mouth_

_of a solo that the vinyl keeps pristine,_

_black box recorder to your submerged plane._

_The singer with a bone stuck in her throat,_

_which is another way to say “longing.”_

_The producer, who fills in on Hammond organ._

_You could go on like this, lost in the noise_

_again, in your baroque joy at what was_

_and is, and what the words become, talking_

_to yourself in the second person, as if_

_you’re fooling anyone, reading the liner notes_

_on a life you measure song by song._

 

Chuck had paused then, barely managing to maintain a grip on the half-empty bottle of cheap vodka he’d been languishing about with. He’d stumbled forward to pluck the battered notebook from the floor and spent the next hour reading through it, the liquor left forgotten on the nightstand. He didn’t drink as much after that, though there were still plenty of nights he couldn’t remember, and plenty of mornings he wished he could forget. He took up writing again, only this time he took to fiction instead of jotting down his own internal monologue. Who on earth would care to read that travesty of a horror story, anyways?

 

On a whim, he sent a copy of a manuscript to a publisher. They’d liked it. He found an editor, and within a year, the first book of the SUPERNATURAL series was on the shelves. The next two books were published over the following fourteen months with minimal success. Then, out of nowhere, he was making best-seller lists and his books were selling out in pre-order. Over the next three years, he published five more books, and by the time he was twenty-four, he was brokering a movie deal and sitting in on casting calls.

 

Time seemed to pass by him a flurry of activity with little to no time between for himself. He would spend days on end writing, forgetting that he was human, that he needed sleep or food or bathroom breaks. When he wasn’t writing, he was being dragged from one end of the country to another, approving movie scripts, casting choices, and wardrobes in LA one morning, then book signings and meet and greets in New York the next afternoon. It was exhilarating and exhausting all at once, but it kept him busy. It kept his mind from wandering too far into the darker recesses where the pain still grew like shadows in a forest as the sun went down.

 

Chuck took a break the fall after his twenty-fifth birthday, needing to get away from it all for a bit and regroup. He went back home to Sioux Falls, settling back into the house he’d barely seen in four years with some difficulty. Sleep didn’t come easy to him on a good day, the fear of falling victim to his own imagination almost sending him into panic attacks every now and then, but here, with so many ghosts wandering the too quiet halls, it was nearly impossible.

 

He should have known it would happen. He’d never really dealt with anything from his past, preferring to just sweep it all under a decorative rug. Now, he thought one night as a fierce rain beat down against the roof and windows, would be just as good a time as any. He knew he couldn’t go on like this, that he had to face himself and his guilt and his fears. He just didn’t have the first clue about where to start. He did know one thing, though. It was definitely going to take more that the two weeks he’d set aside for his little getaway.

 

Chuck cleared his schedule, not sure when he might take up appearances and creative collaborations again. He locked himself away in his family home, surrounded by pictures and memories, and settled in to face his past. He was anxious, damn near a nervous wreck as he scattered pictures and mementos around the living room. He’d pushed the furniture back, clearing the space in the middle, and seated himself among the mess with a blank notebook in hand. He hadn’t written about himself in a long time, and it was easier for him to keep introspection to a minimum most days. Thinking about things only made the pain come back.

 

Still, he knew this had to happen, that it was time for him to move on and let go of all the bad that had happened to him.

 

 

_It wasn’t all bad._

 

_Not really._

 

_Sure, it felt that way at the time, but I was just a kid. I didn’t know anything. I thought my entire life was ending. At least, it felt like it was. One minute I was a perfectly normal kid, running around, enjoying life the way only children can. The next I was mute and terrified and all my parents could do was shower me with praise and attention. I never wanted praise and attention. I knew they loved me. What I wanted were answers. I wanted to know why this was happening to me. I never wanted to be an omega. I never wanted to be an alpha. I just wanted to be Chuck._

 

_But, life isn’t fair, and we never really get what we want out of it, do we?_

 

_Even after I realized this little fact of life, I was still angry. Angry at who and for what I’m not sure._

 

_I was angry at my parents for treating me like some precious treasure. I was never anything special._

 

_I was angry at the world for being unfair._

_  
_ _I was angry at God for ignoring my prayers, for turning a deaf ear to my pain. Wasn’t he supposed to help? For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t doing something. Was I not important enough? Or religious enough? Had I done something so bad that he just didn’t care about me anymore? Had he ever cared about me at all? I had so many questions, but no one could give me the answers._

 

_I was angry at myself the most, though. I thought, maybe if I willed it hard enough, it would go away. Maybe if I prayed every single night to be beta, it would happen. But it didn’t. Instead, I lost my voice and myself and everything that made me, me. I was empty and hurting and nothing I did was making things any better._

 

_As much as it would have pained me then to admit it, going to therapy actually helped. The doctor was an idiot for the most part, and he wanted to put me on every drug there was, but he did manage to get one thing right. He told me to write._

 

_Writing has given me back my voice. It’s allowed me to be heard again, and that is all I’ve wanted for the last thirteen years._

 

_Well, that, and my parents back._

 

_I miss them. Even if they were suffocating in their affection, they were the only family I had, and they were the only people that never gave up on me. Even when all I wanted was for them to go away and leave me alone, they were there, yelling and pestering and demanding. They gave me tough love when I needed it. They forced me out of that pit I was in, and they helped me heal._

 

_Then they left me. No warning, no goodbye._

 

_The last words they said to me were “behave” and “clean your room.”_

 

_According to the psychologist, the funeral was supposed to give me that goodbye I’d never gotten. It was going to help me heal, he’d said. He had sounded so sure of himself and I wanted to believe his so badly, but I just couldn’t. There was no peace as the funeral rites were read, no closure as the two caskets were lowered into the ground and covered with dirt. There was nothing. I was empty, void of everything but pain and guilt and sadness._

 

_And anger. I was so angry, at nothing and at everything. The smallest things would set me off, and I never knew when I would end up breaking things or crawling into my nest and crying until I passed out. I started drinking that first night and I drank myself into a stupor every night after that._

 

 

Chuck woke the next morning, sprawled over the living room floor with ink on his hands. The fire he’d lit the night before was nothing more than dying embers in the ash pile, and a chill had settled over him. He shook it away and stood, stretching and trying to work out the kinks in his back and neck. This was something he was used to. He’d fallen asleep at his desk often enough, and he knew that the only thing that would make it better was a hot shower. Still bleary-eyed and yawning, Chuck made his way up the stairs leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind him.

 

He stepped into the shower and turned the knob, hissing as icy water assaulted his skin. In an instant he was wide awake, and then the water was steaming and soothing away his aches and pains. Chuck groaned, leaning against the tiled wall. His heat was coming. He could feel it in the way his stomach twisted, and in the way his head throbbed. It was a good thing he was locked away, he supposed. He had a tendency to get bitchy during his heats, both from the headaches and the general mood of irritability that came with the territory.

 

‘Looks like it’s sweatpants and ice cream for the next few days.’ He sighed as he washed his hair. It wasn’t like he had plans. He’d write, watch some crappy television, write some more, and sleep a lot. It would be nice, a break from his usually hectic life. It had been too long since he’d been able to just do whatever he wanted, especially during a heat when all he wanted was to curl up in bed with sappy, cheesy rom-coms and a tub of mint chocolate chip. He cursed softly when he realized he was going to have to go to town to buy said mint chocolate chip. He probably needed other things, too. He doubted the house was stocked with much of anything, it had been empty for so long.

 

Resigned to his fate, Chuck rinsed and shut off the water. He stepped out, wrapping a thick, fluffy towel around himself, and padded down the hall to his bedroom. He dressed quickly, wanting to go out and get it over with so he could get back and enjoy his misery. He made sure he had his wallet and phone, grabbed his keys from the hook by the door, and headed out to his car. Chuck loved his car. It wasn’t much by most people’s standards, it wasn’t fancy or flashy or even new, but to him it was perfect. He’d spent more time in the old silver Toyota than he had anywhere else over the last few years, and every rip, fray, stain, and dent meant something to him.

 

The omega climbed into his car and started the engine, then backed out of the driveway and began the fifteen minute drive to town. It was an uneventful drive and he pulled up outside the grocery store without incident. He climbed out of his car and headed inside, the blast of the air conditioner ruffling his clothes and hair as he stepped through the doors. Chuck picked up a basket and made his way through the store, grabbing whatever he thought might come in handy over the next few days until he felt like leaving the house again.

 

He was halfway through the ice-cream section when something inside him shifted. It was almost imperceptible, and most might not have even noticed it, but Chuck had been feeling so out of sorts for so long that the feeling of something sliding into place inside him couldn’t possible go unnoticed. He froze, fingers wrapped around the handle of the cooler door, and glanced around. He was completely alone on the aisle. Cautiously, Chuck opened the cooler door and grabbed a half-gallon of mint chocolate chip. He dropped it in his basket and continued down the aisle, but froze when he felt that same, oddly comforting sensation flow through him.

 

‘What the hell?’ He thought, looking around again. Logically he knew what that feeling meant, but his brain refused to accept it. How cliche would that be, he mused, meeting your mate in a grocery store just before your heat kicks in? Chuck Shurley was a lot of things, but cliche wasn’t one of them. He shook off the feeling, ignoring the pang of sadness and loss that coursed through him as it faded away, and headed towards the checkout.

 

Chuck didn’t think any more about the feeling, shoving it to the back of his mind and burying it deep down inside of himself. What were the chances that he’d ever run into the alpha on the other end of the pull again anyways?

 

It was several weeks before Chuck thought about it again, but it wasn’t by choice. He’d been sitting in a cafe, working on his next book and enjoying a large cup of coffee when everything around him froze. He sat his cup down gently, an unusual sense of peace and calm falling over him. Chuck glanced around, trying to pinpoint exactly who was the reason behind it. No one in particular drew his attention, and he began to wonder if he was just going crazy. He turned his attention back to his laptop and resumed typing, trying to block out the urge to ransack the entire cafe in hopes of finding the alpha responsible.

 

“I’m on my way, Rufus.”

 

He froze once more as the words surrounded him. That voice, Chuck mused, was perfect. It wasn’t as deep as some, but he could just imagine waking up to it, slightly rough from sleep. He felt his cheeks flush as he imagined it husky and low with want, whispering against his ear. Chuck swallowed, forcing himself to look away from his screen again.

 

“I’m sorry. The line was long, and you know how Ellen is about her coffee.”

 

Chuck finally spotted the alpha, blue eyes taking in the back his towering form as he pushed the door open and stepped out into the bustling foot traffic of midtown Sioux Falls, a cardboard tray of coffees in hand. Hastily, and against his better judgement, Chuck slammed his laptop shut, shoved it in his bag, and made to follow him. It wasn’t as easy as he had hoped it might be.

 

By the time the omega made it out of the cafe, the alpha was already a block and a half away and crossing the street. Chuck mentally cursed himself and tugged his satchel higher on his shoulder. There was no way he could catch the man now. A sense of desperation flooded through him, urging him to move faster, to push harder through the crowd. He glanced down the street before bolting across, but it was useless. By the time he made it to the next block, the alpha was nowhere to be seen. With a silent cry, Chuck fell back to rest against the brick side of the nearest building, slamming his palms against the jagged stone. Hot tears prickled at the corners of his eyes and he struggled to blink them away.

 

He didn’t even register that people were starting to stare at him as he slowly calmed himself and brushed his tears away with his sleeve. He hung his head, ashamed of himself for hesitating, for failing to catch the one person in the entire world that could save him. He let out a breathy, humorless sort of huff as he pushed himself away from the wall and started back towards the cafe and his car. It was for the best, he mused as he scuffed the soles of his shoes against the sidewalk. Everyone that got close to him ended up dead at some point. Maybe the universe was just trying to do him a favor and save him from more heartache.

 

By the time he made it home, his head was pounding and a new wave of despair and desperation welled up within him. He’d considered stopping by the liquor store on his way home, thinking that maybe he could drink away the ache, but he forced himself to keep driving. Drinking wouldn’t solve anything, and he’d only wake up with an even worse headache than he already had. It wasn’t worth it, not really. He’d have to deal with it some other way. Chuck dropped his bag on the sofa as he toed off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. He needed to bake something, preferably something chocolate, most likely brownies, and then he needed to eat every damn bite of it.

 

It was several days before Chuck dared to venture out of the house again. He’d done a great deal of thinking as he’d eaten a batch of brownies, and he had decided that if fate wanted his mate to find him, he would. Until then, Chuck would just keep living his life as he was. There really wasn’t any sense in getting himself so worked up over something so far beyond his control. As his luck would have it, Fate was a cold hearted bitch. It seemed as though every time he went to town, he would have to pause and look around. He would hear that voice or catch a whiff of the alpha’s quickly fading scent and the rest of his day would be spent wallowing in misery and self-deprecation. He wasn’t good enough for an alpha. He was broken. He was a mess. He was too short. He was too boring. He was too something, and it was never anything redeeming or praiseworthy.

 

A month passed by with Chuck slowly spiraling back downwards. For once, it had nothing to do with the unfairness of his life or his inability to cope with how much he’d lost. This was different. This went deeper than any pain he’d ever felt before, and he had no idea how to handle it. His alpha, his mate, the one person in seven billion that was just for him, was living in the same damn city, but he could never manage to be in the right place at the right time. He was always just a minute too late. It was infuriating and depressing at the same time. It was almost like rejection without the certainty of being told to go to hell right to his face.

 

He’d been so lost in his own internal ramblings as he shuffled down the sidewalk that he failed to pay any attention to where he was going. When he thought back on it, he spared a moment to acknowledge that just maybe he’d been a bit too harsh on Fate. Then again, the sidewalk had been pretty harsh on his ass, so he figured they were even now.

 

The omega glanced up from his newfound seat on the concrete, wishing like hell that he had the ability to tell whoever it was to pay attention. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference. The words that would have been ready to fly from his tongue would have died on his lips as surely as they died in his brain. It was him. Standing over him with a look that could rival a hurt puppy, hazel eyes wide and doe-like with his lips parted and already spewing apologies, was the alpha he’d been chasing all these weeks.

 

“Oh, God!” The alpha dropped the black leather satchel he was carrying and hurried to help the omega to his feet. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

 

Chuck nodded slowly, still staring at the man in disbelief.

 

“Are you sure? You’re not hurt or anything, are you?” The man insisted, checking Chuck over as though he were a child that had just fallen off of the jungle gym. The omega could feel his cheek heating up as a blush settle over them. This was his chance, and now that he had it he had no idea what to do.

 

Chuck began to sign his name, but his hands were shaking like dead leaves in a winter breeze. He tried mouthing the words, growing increasingly frustrated as the alpha’s look turned to one of confusion. The more frustrated Chuck became, the sloppier his signing got and the worse he shook until he eventually gave up, letting out a silent scream as his eyes burned with unshed tears. He looked away, wiping furiously at his eyes as he sniffled softly.

 

“Hey, calm down. I’m not good with sign language. I’m sorry.” The alpha said in a rush. Chuck glanced up at him from beneath his lashes as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. The alpha’s cheeks were tinged in red and he was scrubbing at the nape of his neck. He was telling the truth. He’d never be embarrassed about a lie, right?

 

“Here. I have a pen and some paper. You can write it down, yeah?” He scrambled to pick up his bag from the ground, and Chuck took a moment to appreciate the way his suit pulled taut over his body in all the right places. If the alpha accepted him, and Chuck prayed that he would, he’d be a very lucky omega. The man was stunning and Chuck was certain he was hiding even more beauty beneath the layers of fabric that constituted a three piece suit. He didn’t even notice the man had turned back to face him until he cleared his throat, and Chuck suddenly realized he was now staring quite entranced at the alpha’s crotch.

 

Chuck swallowed sharply and quickly turned his gaze back to the ground. He held his hand out like a petulant child asking for a cookie, and when the weight of a small legal pad met his open palm, he pulled it to him. A pen was clipped to the top of the pad, and tiny, neat writing covered most of the page. For a brief moment, Chuck was jealous. The alpha had better handwriting than he’d ever had. Hell, he was lucky if a doctor could read his chicken scratch most days.

 

Chuck shook his head and pulled the pen away. He flipped to a clean page, clicked the pen, and quickly scrawled the only thing that mattered across the paper before handing it back to the alpha. A swarm of angry bees seemed to take over his stomach as he waited for the alpha to respond, and time seemed to come to a standstill as the silence dragged on around him.

 

“Charles Patrick Shurley?” The alpha said, head cocked to the side as he glanced from the paper to the man in front of him. In that one moment, something clicked into place inside him. For the first time since he’d turned twelve, Chuck felt like he was a whole person again. He stared up at the alpha with wide eyes, certain that the man could see the fear dancing within them. Tears welled up again and this time he didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

 

“Is that your na-” The alpha didn’t get a chance to finish as Chuck flung himself at the man, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressed his face into the alpha’s chest.

 

“Thank you,” he managed to whisper. His voice was raspy from lack of use and he was barely audible even to his own ears, but he knew the alpha had heard him. The man was a statue under his touch and after a moment, Chuck pulled back. He looked up at the man, almost afraid of what he’d find looking back at him.

 

Fear, confusion, excitement, uncertainty, and hope all flashed across the alpha’s face and Chuck felt that he was looking through him rather than at him.

 

“How-I don’t-how did…”the alpha trailed off, his brow furrowed as he struggled to form any real, coherent sentence. Chuck knew what he was asking, and while he wasn’t sure of the actual explanation, he had something of an answer for the alpha.

 

“You’re my mate.” He said simply. He’d barely spoken and his throat already felt strained. He supposed that would take time.

 

“How do you know?” he asked in disbelief, as though it was preposterous for the omega to know something he didn’t.

 

“Just did.” Chuck shrugged, looking down at his feet as he felt his cheeks flush. The alpha was clearly upset and it left the omega feeling as though he’d screwed everything up. “Been catching your scent for weeks. The store, the cafe, the street. I was always just a hair too late to catch you.I guess all I had to do was give up all hope of ever finding you for it to actually happen.”

 

By the time he was finished, his voice was barely a croak and his throat felt raw, but his heart felt lighter than it had in years. He’d found his mate, and he’d gotten his voice back. A sudden thought occurred to him then. What if the stunning alpha rejected him? Would he go mute again? He knew he’d be going into heat soon, all omegas did after finding their mates, and there was the potential for heat sickness to set in, but if the man outright rejected him, what would happen? He’d never heard of such a thing happening before, not with mates, but Chuck guessed there was always a possibility for anything to happen. Especially where his life was concerned. Hell, to the omega, his life a functioning example of the horror that was Murphy’s Law. If anything could go wrong, it would go wrong for Chuck Shurley.

 

“I-”the alpha stammered again. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair as Chuck watched from beneath his lashes. He could smell the alpha’s nervousness. He could practically see the waves of anxiety that rolled off of the other man and it was making him anxious, too. Damn. They’d just met, but Chuck was already susceptible to the alpha’s pheromones. He wasn’t really shocked; he’d been following a trail of them for so long, his body was likely already attuned to them.

 

“Could we...maybe go somewhere private?” Chuck asked timidly. He had enough anxiety problems of his own. This really wasn’t helping him and he felt as though he was on the brink of an attack. His chest was tight, his hands shaking, his heart pounding in his ears. “Please, alpha.”

 

He must have sounded desperate, because the next moment he was being dragged along by the alpha, one large, calloused hand wrapped firmly around his forearm. He shouldn’t have felt it, but warmth radiated from the places where their skin met and it left him feeling lightheaded. His steps faltered and he stumbled forward.

 

“Watch it,” the alpha snapped as the toe of Chuck’s shoe caught the back of his own. Without thought, Chuck let out a small whimper.

 

“Sorry, alpha.”

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

Chuck tucked his chin against his chest, another whimper falling from his lips. It was silly to be scared. The alpha wouldn’t hurt him, surely, but between the clipped tone of his voice and the sheer size advantage he had, Chuck was near terrified. He didn’t look at where they were going, keeping his eyes on the ground and letting the alpha lead him as he pleased. By the time they came to a stop, Chuck could scarcely breathe. The alpha’s legs were much longer and he moved quickly for someone so large, whereas Chuck was horribly out of shape and lacked any amount of endurance.

 

“Sit.” The alpha pointed to a small, black leather sofa. Chuck didn’t question him. He took his seat without a word, setting his bag at his feet, and wrapped his arms around himself. His mind kept circling back to the idea of rejection and what that might mean for him. The more he thought about it, the more morbid his conclusions became. He could faintly hear the alpha talking to someone, but it was muffled and garbled, like his whole head was filled with cotton and shoved underwater.

 

“ **Charles**!”

 

The sound shook him to his very core and everything around him came to a dead stop. The man had used his alpha voice, but instead of wanting to cower as Chuck had assumed he might wish to, he could feel the stirrings of warmth deep in his gut. Cautiously he turned his eyes from the intricate marble floor and up into red-rimmed hazel eyes. He squeaked involuntarily.

 

“Y-yes?”

 

The alpha stared at him for a long minute before letting out a heavy sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. He took several deep breaths before looking back at Chuck. The red was gone, along with the scowl he’d been wearing, and Chuck felt marginally better. He opened his mouth to apologize once more, but ended up coughing harshly instead.

 

“Here,” the alpha’s voice was calmer now, the command gone, and Chuck tried not to flinch away as the seat next to him dipped beneath the man’s weight. He looked over to find the alpha holding a bottle of water out for him. He took it with a small nod of thanks and took a few small sips. The cool water felt like heaven against his abused vocal cords and the coughing abated for the time being.

 

“Better?”

 

Chuck nodded.

 

“Good. Now, stop talking before you really hurt yourself.” He was shocked by the genuine concern he heard in the man’s tone. He opened his mouth again, but snapped it shut at the mild glare it earned him. “Stop trying to apologize and just listen, alright?”

 

The alpha waited for Chuck to nod is acceptance before he continued talking.

 

“My name is Sam Winchester. This is my office. I’m a junior partner for Harvell and Turner. Do you understand what that means?” Chuck returned the alpha’s earlier glare. He was an omega, not an idiot. He knew of the largest, most successful law firm in the midwest. Who didn’t? He wanted to say as much, but he wasn’t sure he could speak at all. His glare seemed to amuse the alpha, the corners of his lips tugging upwards slightly.

 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. You caught me off guard, and it’s honestly a lot to take in. I understand the process. My brother found his mate a year or so ago in much the same way. I just never expected it to happen to me. I’m so far out of my depth with this, and I have no clue what to do or say.”

 

Chuck hadn’t been expecting the alpha to lay himself out like that. Weren’t alphas supposed to be strong and confident and emotionally closed off? Sam stood and crossed the room to a desk, Chuck’s eyes following him curiously. He opened a drawer and pulled something out before returning to his seat.

 

“I know you want to say something. Write it. Your throat can’t take much more. Take these while you’re at it.” He handed the omega small yellow legal pad and a pen, then he grabbed Chuck’s hand, turned it over, and dropped two small white pills into his open palm. When Chuck hesitated, Sam gave him another mild glare. “It’s over-the-counter pain pills. I’m not going to drug you or anything.”

 

Chuck swallowed the pills without hesitation, praying they would kick in quickly. The water had helped, but his throat felt like he’d swallowed glass and chased it with rubbing alcohol then set it on fire. He clicked the pen and looked at the blank paper.

 

 _Thank you._ He wrote first.

 

_I’m sorry for all of this. I got so excited at the idea of being able to talk again, I didn’t stop to think of the imposition I might be putting you in. You’re a successful alpha and I understand if you don’t want me as you ma-_

 

He froze as Sam’s hand closed around his own, and he followed the line up his arm to look into his eyes. He didn’t expect to find them filled with concern and sadness.

 

“I’m not rejecting you, Charles.” His voice was firm, and Chuck wanted to believe him with everything he had, but the fear was so strong. “I would never reject you. That would be like signing your death certificate. I just don’t know where to go from here.”

 

_Mating._

 

Sam laughed then, and Chuck felt a swarm of butterflies erupt inside his stomach. Sam’s laugh was warm, just like his hands, and it made Chuck feel happy.

 

“I know that part. I mean...I’m not good at this. I’ve never been with someone like you before.” Sam’s cheeks flushed as he bit at his lip, and Chuck was fairly certain it was simultaneously the cutest and sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

 

_What makes being with me any different than being with a beta? Or an alpha?_

 

Sam read over his question, one hand moving to scrub nervously at the back of his neck. “It’s not that...I've never been with another man before. It never occurred to me that my mate would be a male omega and I honestly never gave it much thought.”

 

Oh. Chuck's lips parted slightly as he made a small noise of realization. He wasn't what his mate had wanted. They'd only just met and already he was a disappointment to his alpha. He felt the hot prickle of tears behind his eyes and he looked down at his lap. He could fix this, right? He could become what his alpha wanted him to be.

 

_I can get the surgeries. Remove my penis. It's not very big. I could get used to it not being there. I could get breast enhancements, grow my hair out. Anything you'd like._

 

He gave the pad to Sam and was rather surprised to receive a growl of warning in return.

 

“That's not what I meant.” The alpha snarled and Chuck curled in on himself a bit more. He hadn't meant to make the man angry. He almost yelped as a large hand fell lightly on his shoulder. The snarl was gone, replaced by a wary exasperation when he spoke again. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean...you don't need to change anything to make me happy. I'd never ask anyone to do that. If you're my mate, then you're meant to be my mate exactly as you are.”

 

Chuck blinked up at him, watching the alpha from beneath damp lashes. Sam’s own gaze softened a bit.

 

“Don't look at me like that.” He muttered. Chuck wasn't sure what he meant. “Don't look at me with those big blue eyes and that pout, like I've just taken away your favorite thing in the whole world. I can't...damn, I'm a weak sap.”

 

Sam didn't bother explaining before he pulled Chuck to him, wrapping the omega in his arms. Part of Chuck wanted to squirm and try to wriggle free; he wasn't used to being held and coddled. The rest of him wanted to melt into the big alpha and let himself be taken care of. He felt safe in Sam’s arms and his scent was incredibly enticing. For the first time in many years, Chuck let his omega tendencies take over, and he pressed his nose into the crook of the alpha’s neck, greedily breathing in his scent.

 

Chuck wasn’t sure how long they staying like that, his smaller form curled around Sam’s like a needy, attention starved cat, while the alpha’s fingers carded through his curls. He knew it shouldn’t be happening, they’d only just met, they barely knew each other, but it felt right. It felt good to be pressed against the larger man, scenting him as though he’d never smelled anything so wonderful in his life. Someone cleared their throat from the other side of the room and Chuck jerked back to reality. He turned his head just enough to glimpse in the direction of the noise.

 

A stern looking woman with dark brown hair pulled back into a tight bun stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. Her face was set in an inexpressive stone mask, but her dark brown eyes sparkled in the bright light streaming through the open shades. She looked like a woman that could handle herself, and everything about her screamed ‘alpha’ to Chuck.

 

“You wanna explain all this, Sam?” Her tone surprised the omega. It was warm, almost teasing, and affectionate.

 

“I’m sorry, Ellen. I ran into him on my way in, and it all just kind of happened. I wasn’t sure where else to go, so I brought him here to talk in private. People were starting to stare, and he was getting worked up, and I just-” Sam broke off, looking like pup being scolded as Ellen raised one manicured hand to silence him.

 

“He’s your mate.” She said matter-of-factly. Sam nodded.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

She stepped into the room, moving towards the couple. She held out one hand to Chuck, a smile tugging at her lips. “Hi there. I’m Ellen Harvelle. It’s a pleasure to meet you. We were all starting to think Sam was never going to settle down.”

 

Hesitantly, Chuck took her hand, still pressing as close to Sam’s side as he could. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as he thought. She seemed to care about his alpha at least. He opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut when he caught Sam’s gaze.

 

“His name is Charles. Like I said, he got worked up, overdid it with his vocal cords.” Sam resumed carding his fingers through Chuck’s hair and the omega wanted to purr in contentment. Maybe he was an attention starved cat.

 

“Well, that’s alright, hun. It happens more often that you think.” She gave him a warm, motherly smile then turned to Sam. “If you want to go home, take the day off, that’s alright. I’ll have Charlie take over your interviews. She’s got copies of all of the case notes, right?”

 

“Yes, but I-” Ellen cut the alpha off again, this time with a look. A sense of guilt settled over the omega at the idea of Sam being forced to take time off just because of him.

 

“You take Charles and go. Get to know each other. You know how crucial the first week is after meeting. Now, go. I’ll see you tomorrow night for dinner. Bring Charles with you.” Ellen left no room for argument as she grabbed a stack of papers from Sam’s desk and left the room.

 

Chuck turned his eyes up, giving Sam a questioning look. What did she mean, bring him for dinner? Chuck was certain there was a connection that he was missing, a relationship between the two alphas that he wasn’t able to make out.

 

“Ellen’s practically my mother. My mom died when I was a pup, and my dad was an abusive drunk. Ellen and her husband took me and my brother, Dean, in when our dad left us sitting at a bus stop in town and disappeared. They raised us like we were their own. She’s the reason I became a lawyer.” He spoke proudly of Ellen, but he was eerily detached when speaking of his birth parents. It made sense, Chuck supposed. The alpha had barely known his mother, and would rather not have known his father, or so it would seem.

 

Sam sighed and shook his head as though he were trying to clear away memories he didn’t want to relive. He smiled softly down at Chuck as he untangled himself from the omega. Chuck whined softly in protest, earning him a chuckle from the alpha.

 

“Let’s get you home, hm? You need rest, and something better than water for your throat.” Chuck nodded and stood, picking up his satchel and draping it over his body. He jerked slightly when Sam’s finger pressed beneath his chin and forced his head up. It would take time for him to get used to being touched. No one had so much as tapped his shoulder since his parents died. Sam seemed to notice his discomfort, pulling his hand away.

 

“Or I could take you back to my place and fix you something to eat. Some soup maybe, and some tea?” The alpha was uncertain, and his awkwardness made Chuck feel a bit more comfortable around him.

 

“Home is fine,” he managed to whisper. It had already been an overwhelming day and he didn’t think he could handle being so completely surrounded by the alpha’s scent and his things just yet. “I’ll make lunch.”

 

Lunch was a quiet affair. Chuck had briefly shown Sam around, apologizing for the mess, then directed him to the kitchen table to sit while he cooked. He fixed them both a quick meal of chicken and vegetable stir fry, serving the alpha a much larger portion than himself. He fixed the alpha a glass of cold iced tea, and fixed himself a cup of honey green tea. He sat back in his chair with his knees pulled up to his chest, happy to watch the alpha dig into his meal with enthusiasm as he sipped at the mug of soothing warm tea. The alpha’s small hum of approval did more for the omega’s self esteem than making any best seller list ever had.

 

After lunch, Sam had insisted on helping him clean up, going so far as to wash the dishes while Chuck dried them. Chuck had thought it might be awkward or uncomfortable in some way, but there was no tension between them. It was as if they’d been standing side by side, doing the dishes together for years. ‘Maybe this is what finding your True Mate feels like,’ he mused. Sam was reserved, he noticed, and as content as Chuck was to sit in companionable silence. At least, until Chuck asked him about the brother he had mentioned.

 

The alpha was the younger of the two, and he idolized his older brother, Dean. He spoke highly of the older alpha, singing his praises as his eyes shone with pride. Chuck listened intently, eager to know about the family that would, hopefully, soon become his own. Dean ran his own auto body shop just north of town, restoring classic cars in his spare time. He and his mate, Benny, were happily married and expecting their first pup, and it made Chuck’s heart swell to see the way Sam spoke of his future niece or nephew.

 

By the time Sam left in the afternoon, promising to be there at five to pick him up for dinner the following evening, Chuck was eager to meet the rest of his alpha’s family. He’d been alone for so long. The only person he even considered a close friend was his editor, but even then he was always certain to maintain a level of professionalism. His editor was an alpha and the last thing he needed was for someone to get the idea that there was something going on between them. Zac didn’t seem to mind, always making sure he kept a distance between them. He was a kind and considerate man, and he’d been the one to pull Chuck out of the hole he’d dug himself into. He’d been the one to keep Chuck on track, and he kept him safe while they traveled. He owed a lot to Zac, and now he’d actually be able to express his thanks to the alpha.

 

The moment the thought had crossed his mind, his phone buzzed with a text. He pulled it out, smiling to see that it was Zac, messaging to check up on him. The man really did care for Chuck, and the omega couldn’t even begin to wonder how he might be able to repay him for all of his kindness and generosity. Chuck wanted to call him, to tell him in spoken words how appreciative he was, but his throat was still sore. He would have to settle for a text instead.

 

_I’m fine. I’ve been preoccupied, sorry for not checking in sooner. Great news, though. I met him. The alpha I’ve been chasing around the city. He’s my mate. I got my voice back._

 

He hit ‘send’ and shoved his phone back into his pocket. It could be minutes or hours before the alpha texted back, and after such a long day, Chuck was ready for a long hot bath and bed.

 

The next week flew by. Sam’s family had accepted Chuck the moment he walked through the door, welcoming him with open arms. He couldn’t remember the last time people had been so genuinely warm towards him. Sure, people were nice but it was usually just because they had to be, or just because he was a fairly famous writer and they wanted him on their show, or in their photoshoot, or at their library. Sam’s family actually cared.

 

He was so happy to meet Dean, getting a warm hug from the alpha before he could even say hello. Chuck could easily see why Sam spoke so highly of him. Next came Benny, a large, burly omega. He wasn’t what Chuck had expected, but he was nice and friendly. Bobby, whom Sam was happy to introduce as his father, gave the omega a solid hug and a clap on the back.

 

“It’s about damn time,” the older beta sent a wary look at Sam. “I thought you’d never stop mopin’ about, whinin’ because you couldn’t find a mate.”

 

Sam’s cheeks flushed and Chuck could feel his own warming. Ellen swatted Bobby on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

 

“You just ignore my husband. He’s just grumpy and old.” She smiled before introducing Chuck to a young beta named Jo and her boyfriend, a beta named Kevin.

 

Dinner that night had been amazing, courtesy of Benny, Jo, and Ellen, and Chuck had insisted on helping with the cleanup. It was the least he could do after being treated so wonderfully by such amazing people. Sam had dropped him back at home that night. He’d walked Chuck to his door, even though the omega tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary. He’d brushed a curl back from Chuck’s forehead and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before walking away. He didn’t pull away until Chuck was safely inside.

 

The two met for lunch almost every day, chatting about anything and everything, and Sam would always walk Chuck to his car before heading back to his office. It made the omega feel special, having someone care enough to make certain he was safe. He didn’t have to, but he always made sure to send Sam a text to let him know he’d gotten home alright. It seemed like something the alpha would want him to do, and Chuck worried that Sam might fret if he didn’t do it.

 

One week after their initial meeting, Chuck told Sam he had a surprise for him. He planned out a three course meal, making things he knew the alpha would enjoy. He spent the entire day cooking and cleaning, making the house as spotless as he could, and he was so excited for Sam to arrive that he practically skipped to the door when the doorbell rang. Everything was set for a romantic evening, from the candles on the table to the wine, and even dessert: fresh strawberries with fresh cream and warm chocolate sauce. The couple had yet to speak of Chuck’s heat or mating, neither one willing to be the first to broach the subject, but Chuck was hoping to rectify that this evening. He could feel his heat approaching and he knew it would be upon him sooner rather than later.

 

“I didn’t think you’d be quite so excited to see me.” Chuck blinked in confusion for a moment as he stared at the alpha on the other side of the door.

 

“Z-Zachariah, what...what are you doing here?” He stammered out, trying to glance around the alpha in hopes of seeing Sam behind him.

 

“You’ve been holed up here for months, Chuck. Time to come back to the real world.” The man pushed his way past Chuck and into the house, looking around with an air of disdain. “Were you expecting someone?”

 

“Sam, he’s coming over for dinner after work.” Chuck brushed him off, still standing in the open doorway. “I told you I’d be taking a while off, Zac. I’m fine, better than fine. I’ll be back to writing just as soon as Sam and I-uh-take care of some things.”

 

“Look, Chuck, I’m as happy as the next guy that you found your mate, but we have a movie to make.” The alpha’s tone was clipped and Chuck could tell the politeness was forced. He didn’t quite understand what was going on. Zac had never been like this before. He’d never tried to pressure Chuck into doing anything.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, Zac. I’m almost in heat. Leaving now, without Sam, it would probably kill me.”

 

“Oh please, there are plenty of alphas to take care of your little problem,” Zac rolled his eyes.

 

“What?” Chuck couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d never do that to Sam, and he couldn’t believe that Zac of all people would expect him to. His tone was clipped, barely masking his anger, “Sam is my alpha, Zac. He’s the only alpha that is ever going to help me with my ‘problem’ as you so nicely put it. Now, kindly get the hell out of my house.”

 

The alpha across from him seemed shocked that Chuck would speak to him in such a way, but the omega didn’t care. He didn’t know what Zac’s problem was, but Sam would be arriving soon, and the last thing he wanted was some alpha pissing match ruining his evening. He was so caught up in his own ire that he didn’t see the alpha coming towards him until it was too late. Zachariah caught him by his shoulders, easily pinning him to the wall by the door.

 

“You insolent, selfish little bitch.” He snarled into Chuck’s ear. The omega flinched and tried to squirm away, but the alpha was much stronger than he was. “You think you can talk to me like that? I made you! If you belong to any alpha, it’s me, do you understand?”

 

So he was jealous. That explained a lot, but Chuck wasn’t sure why Zac was jealous of Sam. There was nothing between them beyond work, and what he thought was a close friendship. Unless...no. There was no way Zac had been pining after him all these years. He’d have said something well before now. Zachariah Smith was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them.

 

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Chuck growled lowly. He was suddenly much less comfortable in the alpha’s presence and his hold was beginning to hurt the omega’s shoulders.

 

“We’ll see about that. You’ll be screaming my name before I’m done with you.” Chuck didn’t have a chance to respond before Zachariah backhanded him, knocking him into the wall and onto the floor. Chuck tried to push himself to his feet, but one swift kick to the side of his head made his entire world go black.


	3. Chapter 3

****

 

**2**

 

Chuck wanted to believe that Sam was worried about him. He wanted to believe that the alpha was actively searching for him. He wanted to believe that he wasn’t going to die chained to a disgusting mattress in a damp, dank basement. He wanted to believe a lot of things, but he was quickly running out of what little faith he had. 

 

He had no way of knowing how long he’d been Zachariah’s prisoner. If this were a normal heat, maybe he would have been able to judge, but this wasn’t normal. Time had lost all meaning and he had no way of knowing if a second had passed, or a day. He felt like he’d been dropped into a volcano and left to burn. Every muscle was stiff and every bone and joint ached constantly. His head felt heavy, filled with stabbing, blinding pain as his temperature continued to rise. His only hope now was death, and he knew it, but he just couldn’t give up yet. He knew that the moment he threw in the towel, Sam would show up and the alpha would blame himself for the omega’s death. Chuck wasn’t ready for that. So he held on, praying that Sam would hurry, that his alpha would find him, that he might at least get to say goodbye and let Sam know that he loved him.

 

He cracked his eyes open, relieved that he was surrounded by near total darkness. The darkness didn’t hurt as much. He could hear footsteps and voices, but he brushed it off. The alpha liked turning the volume up on the TV. He knew how much pain it caused to omega and he also knew that no one would be able to hear him scream if he bothered to try. With a weak whine, Chuck shut his eyes again and rolled away from the door. If the alpha came in, at least Chuck wouldn’t have to look at him. He knew it was silly and childish, but for a moment he remembered the old childhood idea that if the he couldn’t see the boogeyman, then the boogeyman couldn’t see him. His logic was flawed, and on some level he knew it, but he was far too gone to care. 

 

He woke to screams. Not the bloodcurdling screams that he usually woke to, not the ones that came from his own throat. These were different. They were rumbling, guttural, and they shook the omega to his core. A loud crash sounded from above him, followed by another, and then footsteps. Was this is? Had Sam found him? Was he actually going to get his wish?

 

The sound of the basement door unlocking drew his attention. A second later and Zac was flying through it, slamming it shut behind him. The alpha stormed towards him, a snarl on his lips, his blue eyes gone completely garnet. He ripped the omega from the bed by the hair, growling when his weakened legs could barely hold him upright. Chuck was confused when Zac pulled him against his chest, the omega’s back pressed hard against his chest. They stood there for a time, Chuck wasn’t sure how long, before the door opened again. 

 

The first thing he smelled was Sam. His heart fluttered in his chest as his mate drew closer to him. Then he smelled the blood. His alpha, his mate, was hurt. He couldn’t see any injuries, but then he could barely see anything. This was all his fault. He should have fought harder to get away from Zac. He should have screamed or run or done something. Maybe he would have died, but at least Sam wouldn’t be hurt.

 

Chuck was too ashamed to look at the alpha, his eyes trained on the floor. He was trembling, freezing cold and burning at the same time, and being upright was making him nauseous. His vision swam and he swayed. A loud growl filled the air and Chuck couldn’t even whimper. 

 

“You really willing to risk your little bitch to get to me?” He heard Zac taunt Sam from somewhere above him. 

 

Sam’s only response was to growl again, and the sound shook Chuck to his very core. It made something deep inside him twist and throb with need, and his heart hammered against his ribs as though it might break through completely. He glanced up, his eyes catching Sam’s. The alpha was a scant three feet away, and he tried to reach out to him, but he could barely move his arms. His entire body felt like it was made of lead. Sam’s eyes were the brightest red he’d ever seen, glimmering like two rubies in the darkness. He looked murderous, and while it should have frightened him, Chuck felt nothing but relief and lust. 

 

The hand in his hair tightened, jerking his head back sharply. It was too much for him to take, and his world spun wildly on its axis. Chuck stumbled and lost his balance entirely, knocking Zachariah to the floor as he fell. He landed half atop Zac, and half on the cold floor, his elbow catching the alpha behind him in the gut. The sharp wheezing sound the man made was actually somewhat satisfying to the omega. At least until a meaty hand closed around his throat and started to squeeze. 

 

“I’ll kill him, I swear I will.” The alpha snarled at Sam. 

 

Chuck supposed it was the sudden threat of death, or maybe it was just a fight or flight response finally kicking in, but a rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins. He started to struggle. He tried to pry the hand from his throat, but it wasn’t budging. He thrashed, digging his nails into any bit of exposed flesh he could reach. The scent of fresh blood met his nostrils and with a growl, Zac let him go and shoved him away.

 

“You dumb bitch!” he glared at Chuck, but the omega wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy dragging in oxygen. When he knew he wasn’t going to pass out, Chuck turned his gaze towards the man he’d thought was his friend. Anger welled up inside of him like he’d never felt before. The man had used him, had abused him, had lied to him. He’d betrayed him in the worst way possible. Without realizing it, Chuck pounced on him as the alpha nursed his injured hand. He didn’t stop to think about what he was doing; he simply acted on the primal rage that had consumed him. 

 

The next thing he knew, he was being pulled away by two strong arms around his middle, and being surrounded by warmth and calming pheromones. He struggled for a moment, trying to strike the alpha again as his mate pulled him away. 

 

“Shhh,” Sam’s voice washed over him as a hand carded through his hair. “It’s alright. It’s over now. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting go.”

 

He could hear the sincerity in Sam’s voice, could feel the strength of him as he held Chuck tight against his chest. He turned, burying his face against Sam’s shirt as tears began to pour from his eyes. The image of Zac lying on the floor, his face already swelling and covered in blood, flashed behind his closed eyelids and he let out a choked sob. What had he done? He wasn’t aggressive. He was an omega. Alphas protected, omegas hid. That’s how things worked. Shame filled him as the adrenaline began to wane, and his fists throbbed and ached. 

 

“It’s over, Chuck. It’s over. It’s alright.” Sam continued to whisper as he buried his nose in the omega’s curls. 

 

“Not yet it isn’t.” Chuck whined lowly, pressing tighter against his alpha at the sound of Zac’s voice. He heard shuffling behind him, and he didn’t need to look to know that the alpha was pushing himself up on his feet. Sam turned them, placing himself between Chuck and the other alpha. 

 

“Let it go, and leave.” Sam snarled. “This is your only chance. If you threaten him again-”

 

“You’ll do what? Kill me?” Chuck could hear the threat behind Zachariah’s words. He might be taunting Sam, but he wasn’t playing. 

 

“Yes.” Sam wasn’t playing either, it seemed. Chuck couldn’t just hear the promise behind that one syllable. He could feel it. He knew that Sam would do it if Zac left him with no choice, and a large part of him wanted it to happen. He wanted the alpha dead. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life worrying and looking over his shoulder, waiting for the brute to strike again. He felt even more ashamed of himself as the thought passed through his mind. How horrible of a person was he to wish someone else dead? What was wrong with him? 

 

The other alpha appeared to back down, taking a small step back, and Chuck let out a shaky breath. He pressed himself against Sam’s back, nuzzling the space between his shoulder blades weakly. He could feel the alpha’s muscles ripple beneath his cheek as he relaxed a fraction. The omega looked up at the sound of shuffling feet; Zachariah was edging around them, keeping his eyes on Sam as he moved around them and towards the door, keeping as much space between them as he possibly could.

 

“Alpha,” he whispered softly. He was so tired, he could hardly keep his eyes open, but being near the mountain of a man that was Sam WInchester had his insides in knots. Warmth filled him as he drew in Sam’s scent, and he could feel a fresh wave of slick soaking his underwear. 

 

He could tell by the shift in his scent that Sam could smell him. The smell of anger became tinged with the scent of want, and Chuck could feel his cheek burning at the idea of what was to come. Sam turned to face the omega once again, his eyes still red, but his pupils were blown wide, and to Chuck he looked like a hungry predator waiting to pounce his prey. He’d never seen Sam look at him like that, and it sent a shock through his entire body. 

 

“Soon. We need to get you out of here,” Sam said softly, though Chuck could tell he was gritting his teeth. It was taking all of what little strength he had not to turn around and just present on the cold, dirty floor. 

 

They’d both forgotten about Zac. They thought he’d left until a terrifying roar filled the room, echoing off of the walls. 

 

It was only a few seconds, Chuck knew, but watching the scene play out in front of him was like watching an entire movie in slow motion. Zacharia charged them both, his eyes wild, teeth bared. Sam reacted in a blink, pushing Chuck towards the bed and out of the way before throwing himself at the oncoming alpha. The two alphas collided, Sam’s fist meeting Zachariah’s sternum as Zac’s fist met Sam’s jaw. The smaller alpha doubled over, wheezing out a breath, but Sam didn’t stop. Chuck wasn’t sure he could have if he’d wanted to. 

 

He grabbed the man by his neck, lifting him off of the ground and holding him up. His feet kicked, looking for purchase, but the ground was several inches below the tips of his toes. He made several harsh choking sounds before Sam slammed him back against the nearest wall. The sickening crack of the older man’s skull against the brick left Chuck feeling sick and excited all at once.

 

Chuck never expected what happened next. Sam leaned forward, sunk his teeth deep into the alpha’s neck, and jerked back. He repeated the action several times until the man’s screams turned into whispers, and finally, silence. Sam let go, Zac’s body slumping to the floor in a bloody, decimated mess. His neck was shredded, blood splattered across the wall, and when Sam turned to look at him, Chuck could see that he was soaked in blood. The stench of it made the omega’s nose crinkle, but the knowledge of what had just happened made something primal deep inside of him moan lustfully. 

 

Sam wiped the back of his shirtsleeve across his face, but it did little to clean off the mess he’d created. He moved towards Chuck slowly, reaching down and practically ripping the chain that tethered his ankle to the bed in half. 

 

“Let’s get you home.” He smiled softly. The resulting image was mildly disturbing, but Chuck nodded and forced himself to his feet. He swayed, stumbled, and would have fallen to the floor if Sam hadn’t scooped him up in his arms at the last second. Chuck snuggled close to him, doing his best to ignore the sticky mess of blood and the metallic scent it left in his nostrils. He could handle it until Sam got him somewhere else, somewhere safe and not that basement. Chuck didn’t think he’d ever care to go into another basement so long as he lived.

 

He didn’t remember much after that. Getting to Sam’s car was a blur, and he must have fallen asleep because he didn’t remember the car ride at all. When he woke up, he was wearing a too-big tee and nothing else, but he was clean. Sam was curled around him, his nose pressed firm against the crook of Chuck’s neck, with one arm holding him down. 

 

Chuck wriggled, trying to roll over, but stopped when he felt something hard pressing into his hip. He whimpered softly, trying not to wake his alpha, but it was pointless. The alpha hadn’t been sleeping. He whined as warm, slightly chapped lips pressed against the spot just behind his ear, and he tilted his head in submission. His cheeks flushed as slick seeped out of him and through the thin material of the shirt. He almost laughed as the thought of ruining Sam’s perfectly good sheets ran through his mind. 

 

“Stop thinking.” Sam whispered as he rutted against Chuck’s hip. His hand had moved down to rest on the omega’s thigh, and Chuck could feel the smirk on his lips as they pressed against his neck. His fingers danced over the bare skin of Chuck’s thigh, sending small jolts of electricity through the omega’s body. Chuck whined, loudly this time, as his hips bucked up of their own accord. 

 

“Sam,” He panted as the alpha drew his fingers up over his hip, the shirt riding up and exposing his overheated flesh to the cool air. He trembled as goosebumps covered his skin, but a second later he was burning again. “Alpha, please.”

 

“Please,what?” Sam teased as he continued to push the shirt up, his fingers brushing over Chuck’s ribs lightly. The omega whined and pouted, turning his face to press it into his pillow. A sharp pain had him yelping and turning to glare at the alpha, but Sam just chuckled and twisted his nipple again. This time Chuck moaned, arching into his touch as he bit at his bottom lip. Sam rutted against his hip again, the fabric of his boxers deliciously rough against Chuck’s sensitive skin. 

 

“Oohh,” he mewled, bucking up into nothing.

 

“I didn’t quite catch that.” Sam purred, tugging at Chuck’s earlobe with his teeth.

 

“Damn it, Sam. You know what. Stop teasing and just fuck me already.” Chuck had meant to at least sound irate, but he was breathless and his words were shaky.

 

“All you had to do was ask,” Sam bit sharply at his ear before letting go, and then Chuck was alone in the middle of the bed. He looked around blearily, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw that Sam had only stood to strip, and was already crawling back onto the bed with him. He leaned down, capturing Chuck’s lips in a gentle, sweet kiss, then pulled away. He tugged Chuck into a sitting position and straddled his thighs, then pulled the shirt off of him and tossed it over his shoulder.

 

If he'd been in a more coherent state, Chuck would have taken the time to admire the beauty that was his alpha. He wasn't. His eyes flickered down, straight to the prize, and he couldn't help himself as he reached out to wrap his fingers around Sam’s cock. It was massive, but he'd honestly expected as much. Again, had he taken a moment to think, he might have been scared, might have insisted that there was just no way this would work. In his heat wrecked state, however, Chuck couldn't wait to have every inch of his alpha buried deep inside of him. He could feel his inner muscles clenching in anticipation. His thighs and backside were completely soaked in slick, and a heady warmth pooled in his stomach. 

 

“F-fuck.” Sam hissed, bucking into Chuck’s hand. The omega felt a swell of pride at Sam’s reaction, and he dipped forward to swipe the flat of his tongue over the tip. He was rewarded with a deep growl before Sam’s hand fisted in his hair and pulled him back. “Later. Need to mate.”

 

Sam was almost as far gone as he was, Chuck realized, if the rough, stammered speech was anything to go by. 

 

“Yes, please alpha.” He begged, tilting his head and exposing his neck to the alpha. “Want you, Sam. Need you, need your knot, need your mark.”

 

He was getting desperate. His heat had been gnawing at him for what felt like ages, and now he was so very close to getting exactly what he needed to make it better. He wriggled again, bucking up to rut his much smaller cock along Sam’s. Once again he was rewarded with a growl, then Sam released him and shifted to kneel beside him.

 

“Roll over.”

 

Chuck didn't hesitate. He rolled onto his stomach and pulled his knees beneath him as he pressed his face into the pillows, presenting himself for his alpha. He shook his backside, silently begging the alpha to take him when the man didn't do so automatically. He yelped as Sam press two long fingers inside him, but he quickly relaxed as the alpha began to stretch him open. It wasn't what he needed, but he wasn't going to complain. The sharp need that had consumed him dulled a bit at his alpha’s attention, and Chuck was grateful for it. He needed more, needed Sam inside him, but he had to trust that his alpha knew best. The small part of his brain that was still capable of processing rational thought knew that Sam just didn’t want to risk hurting him. 

 

He mewled as the alpha added a third finger and moaned lewdly as he spread them wide inside him. Chuck pushed back against Sam’s hand, demanding more than the alpha was giving him. Sam wasn’t one to take orders, though. He let out a low warning growl, his free hand moving to Chuck’s hip to hold the smaller man still. 

 

“Patience.” Sam’s voice was deeper than usual, and gravely. Chuck could feel his cock twitch against his lower abdomen and a thrill of anticipation ran through his body. He let out a whimper, but remained still.

 

It felt like hours passed before Sam pulled his fingers free. Chuck glanced over his shoulder to watch, only to see the alpha sucking the slick from his fingers one at a time with a look of utter delight on his face. Chuck was both excited and embarrassed by the man’s actions, but the wanton moan that came from his soon to be mate left him pleased. He must like the way he tasted, and Chuck couldn’t help but feel smug about that. 

 

“Are you ready?” Sam asked as he caught Chuck’s eye. When the omega nodded eagerly, Sam smirked. He lined himself up and slowly pressed inside. Even with the stretching Sam had done, it was still a tight fit. Chuck bit at his lip, letting his head fall to hide the tears that prickled at the corners of his eyes. He knew he was made for this, and that he could handle it, but it hurt more than he’d anticipated. Even with the ridiculous amount of slick he was producing, and his body being ready for it, it still hurt. He didn’t move, and barely breathed, until he felt Sam bottom out. 

 

“Fuck.” Chuck hissed, forcing himself to relax.

 

“I thought we already were,” came Sam’s cheeky reply. He chuckled weakly as he took deep breaths. Then he felt Sam’s lips at the base of his skull. The alpha trailed feathery kisses across his shoulders, and peppered the upper half of his back with them. One hand had remained on his hip, his thumb rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His other hand found one of his own, and the alpha laced their fingers together. He wasn’t trying to rush things, he wasn’t trying to just take what was his to take. He was giving Chuck time to adjust and that left the omega feeling warm and loved for the first time in a very long time. It made his heart swell. He turned his head as far as he could and looked back at his mate. 

 

“S-Sam…” Damn if he wasn’t still crying, too. He was sure he looked like a scared little teenager. The alpha just smiled at him knowingly and pressed their lips together. It was an awkward angle and the kiss didn’t last long, but it was probably the most perfect kiss Chuck had ever experienced. 

 

He nodded lightly as Sam pulled away, letting him know that he was ready. The pain had dulled and as Sam slowly pulled out of him, it was replaced with blinding pleasure and the need of his heat returned full force. The time for sweet moments and gentle touches was over, and when Sam began to press back inside him, Chuck slammed back to meet him. He let out a gasping moan as stars exploded behind his eyes. Sam’s fingers tightened around his hip, digging into the pliant skin, and Chuck just knew he’d have bruises come morning, but he didn’t care.

 

“Yes,” He moaned as Sam set a brutal, fast pace. “Yes, alpha. Fuck, yes.”

 

His praise earned him growls and sharp nips to his shoulder. Chuck shifted slightly, his thighs trembling from the exertion, and practically howled as his alpha slammed into his prostate full force. He didn’t get the chance to recover from the intense bout of pleasure before it ripped through him again. He could practically smell the smug triumph of his alpha as the man worked him into a tizzy, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of bliss and oblivion. He was almost there when he felt it, the sudden pressure of Sam’s knot forming. He could just hear the wet ‘pop’ it made as it pushed passed his entrance and a sudden fear filled him. Would it hurt? Would it rip him in half? He was already so full. How could he possibly take anything else?

 

He didn’t have much time to think about it. A second later, Sam slammed into his prostate and he came with a howling cry of his alpha’s name. Sam followed him a moment later, and all at once Chuck was filled with an odd, but not unpleasant, mixture of pure pleasure and pain. Sam’s teeth were buried in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, his knot stretching Chuck wider than he’d ever thought possible as he filled him with his seed. It was so intense that he felt himself come a second time before he blacked out. 

 

When he came too, they were still tied, but Sam had rolled them to the side. He was curled around Chuck, still holding his hand as he lapped at the mark on his neck. He was exhausted, but for the first time since Zac had shown up on his doorstep, Chuck felt almost normal again. He wasn’t burning up, and he wasn’t freezing cold. The hunger that had been gnawing at him for so long was finally sated.

 

“Go to sleep,” Sam whispered against his ear. “We’re going to be here for a while.”

 

Sleep. Chuck wanted so badly to just close his eyes and sleep, but he couldn’t. What if...what if it was all just a dream? What if he woke up and Sam was gone and he was back to dying slowly in that basement? What if he didn’t wake up at all?

 

“Go to sleep, Chuck. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam seemed to understand his fears without him having to voice them. He guessed that was part of being mated, thought. A small grin tugged at his lips as he realized, yes, they were mated. Sam was his mate. His, and only his, and he would keep him safe. He’d already proven that when he’d ripped Zac’s throat out. 

 

“Yes, alpha.” He whispered in reply, snuggling back against him and breathing in his musky scent. “And Sam?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too. Now, sleep.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

**1**

 

Chuck tried not to think too much about his time as a hostage. He’d come so far since then that it seemed to him to be pointless. He’d gotten over it, he’d moved on. He wasn’t bottling things up anymore, not the way he had before. He knew he never would have managed without Sam and their family. 

 

He still didn’t care to go down into the basement, but he didn’t break out into panic attacks if he had to. Not anymore at least. It had been rough in the beginning, even knowing that nothing was going to happen to him. He’d gotten better though, and now he could proudly say that he was (mostly) a fully functioning adult. 

 

At least as functioning as one could be when they were eight months pregnant with twins. 

 

“Give it back!”

 

Chuck was pulled from his inner musings by the shrill scream of his three year old daughter, Anna. He lowered the book he hadn’t really been reading just in time to see her run through the living room after her four year old cousin, Michael, as he held her favorite doll just beyond the reach of her tiny hands. 

 

“Michael, give Anna her doll back.” Chuck gave the boy a stern look. He was exactly like his alpha father, from his sandy hair to his green eyes, and right down to his ‘I didn’t do anything’ pout. Chuck shook his head. At least he’d ended up with Benny’s slightly calmer temper. He didn’t look away until the boy lowered the doll and handed it back to his cousin. 

 

“Sorry, Anna.” He muttered, looking down at his feet as he shuffled them against the hardwood floor. Chuck smiled brightly when Anna shrugged and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. 

 

“‘S okay, Mike.” She had a hard time saying his full name, so she’d been calling him Mike for almost two years. Their makeup was cut short as the front door opened, and both children ran screaming towards the foyer. Chuck didn’t even bother to get up. He honestly didn’t know if he even could at the moment without help. 

 

“You’ll never believe what I caught.” Sam crowed as he walked into the living room. He’d been made a partner at the law firm, and while the hours were usually longer, the pay was desperately needed now. Chuck smiled up at him as he dangled Michael upside down, Anna clinging to his back like a monkey. 

 

“What have I told you about bringing home wild animals?” Chuck admonished playfully. 

 

“You did not just call my son a wild animal.” Dean entered the living room, Benny a step behind him. “I’ll have you know your little monkey bit me the other day.”

 

“Maybe she thought you’d taste like pie. It’s pretty much all she’s ever seen you eat.” The omega teased, winking at Benny when their eyes met. 

 

“Haha.” Dean deadpanned as he took his son from Sam. 

 

“I picked up the paint for the nursery. I’ll start working on it tonight.” Sam leaned over, dropping Anna onto the couch beside Chuck before bending down to steal a kiss from his mate. He reached over, running a hand over his swollen stomach. 

 

“No rush,” Chuck smiled as he pulled Sam back down by his tie for another kiss. “We still have three weeks.”

 

“You say that, but I think you’re forgetting that someone,” Sam turned to stick his tongue out at Anna who giggled loudly in return. “Was almost two weeks early.”

 

“I was in labor for almost 30 hours, Sam. There’s no forgetting that.” He laughed as their daughter snuggled against his side, muttering softly to her soon-to-be little siblings. They had no clue about genders. They’d wanted to be surprised. Anna didn’t seem to care either way, so long as she got to be a big sister. 

 

It was four in the morning, two days later, when Chuck woke up cursing himself. The bed was soaked and so was he. He leaned over, practically punching Sam in the shoulder to wake him up. 

 

“Wha?” The alpha grumbled as he rolled over. He stared at Chuck for a minute, the omega waiting for it to click in his mate’s mind. “Shit.”

 

With that, Sam was out of bed, pulling on clothes that looked clean in the darkened room. He grabbed the bag they’d kept ready by the door and hurried out of the room and down the stairs. Chuck heard the car start, and slowly began to push himself up and out of bed. He’d just gotten his feet on the floor when Sam returned, helping him the rest of the way. Sam stripped him of his wet clothes and dressed him again in dry ones, then helped him down the stairs and into the car. Chuck waited, silently thankful that the contractions hadn’t started yet, as Sam ran back in to get Anna. 

 

Chuck called Benny and Dean as they headed for the hospital, and half of the family was waiting for them when they arrived. He was wheeled back to a room, and just as Sam was helping him into a hospital gown, his contractions began with a vengeance. He nearly doubled over, the only thing keeping him upright being the death grip he had on Sam’s forearm. It didn’t last long, but the next followed close behind. 

 

Chuck didn’t remember much about the delivery. The pain kind of blocked out a lot of it. It had been the same with Anna, only he’s had a day and a half of being in labor to go along with that one. This time was much faster. He was too far along by the time the doctor came in to even receive painkillers. 

 

By the time it was over, Chuck was exhausted. He slumped back against the pillows, his body covered in sweat, with a smile on his lips as the nurse handed him one bundle of pink and one of blue. They were small, but healthy, and their loud cries were music to his ears. He leaned against Sam as he sat on the bed beside him. 

 

“They’re perfect,” Sam whispered, brushing back the tuft of dark hair on the baby boy’s head. “Just like their mother.”

 

Chuck blushed but said nothing.

 

“What should we name them?” Sam asked, smiling fondly as their new daughter blinked up at him sleepily. She had the most beautiful amber eyes Chuck had ever seen, just like his own mother’s. 

 

“I think we’ll call you Gabriella.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He’d always loved the name, and it had been his mother’s middle name, so it felt fitting. 

 

“And this little guy?” Sam asked as he took the little boy from Chuck and held him against his chest. “How about we name you Castiel? It is Thursday, and you are a little angel.”

 

“Perfect.” Chuck smiled, stifling a yawn. Their loved ones filtered in a few minutes later to see the newest additions to their ever growing family, and then they were gone. Dean and Benny took Anna, promising to keep her for a few days until things were settled, and the nurses took Castiel and Gabriella to clean them up and look them over. 

 

Chuck scooted over on the bed, making room for his mate who quickly toed off his shoes and joined him. It was a narrow fit, but they managed. Chuck sighed and let his head fall to rest against his alpha’s chest as Sam wrapped him in his arms. Silently, Chuck sent up a prayer, a simple thank you, before falling asleep to the sound of Sam’s heartbeat.


End file.
